


Loving Her

by chichirichick



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chichirichick/pseuds/chichirichick
Summary: Small snippets of Soul and Spirit moments as they both navigate their love for Maka. Mostly heartwarming, lots of fluff with some humor thrown in. Uh, probably some angst too since I did write it...
Relationships: Maka Albarn & Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	1. The Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Waltzfor-Zizi (azro_zee)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azro_zee/gifts).



_Whatever he chooses I probably won't see his smiling face again._

Death's words sat in Spirit's gut, ate away any ease in his brain, and brought his feet to his daughter's doorstep. He already knew Maka wasn't home - he'd made some cheap excuse to get Marie to keep her conveniently busy until he had connived a way to meet her later - but the piano music flooding from under the door resigned Spirit to his fate. With the spare key that Maka didn't know about, Spirit opened the door and let himself into the apartment. "Hey, mop-head," he called.

The music clattered to a stop with a sour note, a wave of annoyance announcing the boy before he even got into the hallway. "What the hell, old man - Maka's not-"

"Here, yeah," Spirit shrugged. "Wasn't looking for her."

Spirit watched the sharp teeth in Soul's mouth gape, ready to spit another insult but his jaw clamped back shut. "What the hell do you want then?" came between clenched teeth.

"Take a walk with me."

Soul sucked his teeth, "If this is some kinda-"

"Take a walk with me," echoed again down the hallway, words drifting with an odd force between them.

The boy's sneakered feet hesitated. "Maka's not home."

"But she could come back. Prefer she didn't hear this."

The honesty punctured the tightness in Soul's brow.

Spirit didn't wait for the reply, turning on his heels as he started the slow walk out the door. There was some fumbling behind him before the boy caught up, posture always suffering from that eternal slump as Soul threw his hands in his pockets. The two walked in entirely unforced silence, just the sounds of their feet changing from carpet to concrete. _I wonder how long he'll follow me_ , glanced over Spirit's mind before his eyes risked a look at the white-haired menace. It was obvious that the gears in that boy's head were working, too lost in his own thoughts to give one to the annoyance of following Spirit around.

Asphalt gave way to grass, Spirit pulling them into a park without so much as another word. He tested one last boundary, motioning Soul towards a bench as he deserted the boy for a coffee stand.

Soul was restless, his legs refusing the seat as he eyed the older man at till. He sucked his teeth a few times, trying to produce the right grinding words to air the displeasure but his heart was rumbling in a way that quieted everything else. _This is weird. It's just weird._

Spirit returned, pressing a cup into Soul's hand before he eased onto the bench.

Soul took a moment to stare incredulously at the offering before letting his knees fold, his ass hitting hard to the seat. "Look, old man, I don't-"

"Just shut up and listen," Spirit slipped out after a sip of his coffee.

Soul sucked his teeth again, turning his head away as if his ear wasn't perked.

"I don't have to tell you this is big-"

"Yeah, you buying me a coffee, might as well saint you now," Soul grumbled.

"I mean the mission," Spirit corrected with a sigh.

The slack in Soul's shoulders tightened, no longer lopsided but threatening to be rigid.

"And I have a lot I need to say to Maka," that was easily interrupted by a disgruntled harumph from Soul's mouth and Spirit had to suppress the urge to smack the boy, "but I also have to say something to you."

Soul turned his head just enough for Spirit to catch the corner of a snarl on his lips. "Listen, I don't need a pep talk from you."

"If you think that's what I'm here for you're a bigger idiot than I thought." That sneer was trembling at the corner with rage and Spirit pushed, knowing he had a thin line before the boy bubbled over in rage. "Can't fault you for the job you've done as her weapon, but I'm not going to thank you either. Risking your life for her is what you're supposed to do, even if you do a good job of it."

The boy pressed a derisive huff of air through his nose.

"And I'm not going to sit here and beg you to keep her safe," Spirit shook his head bitterly, "because both you and I know that this time there might not be a chance for that."

He watched Soul's hand clench into a fist, the muscles audibly popping with the tightness. "Maka's not gonna die. I'm gonna-"

"Protect her until you do, yeah, sure, kid," Spirit tried to make that as passe as possible, watching it cause another flex in Soul's hand. "But you, me, her, Stein, Marie, Star, Kid, and all the rest… there's a chance none of it will go our way. Or maybe only some of our ways. So listen."

"I'm listening." The words had to come with bitter defiance from Soul's mouth or else he was sure he'd produce something closer to a whimper at the idea.

"Keep loving her," Spirit laid out flatly.

Soul's cheeks erupted in the same crimson as his eyes, his face finally shooting in Spirit's direction. "Hey, old man, I- you- she-" Each pronoun came with a new octave.

"And I will thank you for doing that much, for loving her like you do because, hell, Maka can trust her gut on the battlefield but after her mother and me, I was sure she'd never let anything bring back the trust in her heart…" Spirit leveled a look at Soul that turned his stomach into a quivering mess.

"I didn't- I _haven't_ -" _Why do I sound like I'm pleading?_ Soul squirmed in his misery as the other scythe just seemed to feed off it.

"Nah, kid, of course you haven't," Spirit sighed nostalgically. "And I'm not even saying you _should_ consider it since even though we're in a do-or-die crunch, I have some stupid inkling that both of you are too stubborn to die in this."

A mournful little groan stole from Soul's lips as he finally produced enough will to drop his eyes. "I _can't._ "

"That's not what I'm asking you to do anyway," Spirit shrugged even without the audience of Soul's eyes. "Just let those feelings stick, OK? Let them be there, and let yourself keep taking care of her like you do because… well, if I can't be here, I just want to know she has that. Someone else around to give her the love she deserves."

Soul's spine was jelly but he still managed to press it back against the bench, trying to ease the thunderous trampling of his heart. _I love her._ His hand popped to the start of his scar. _Duh, idiot, you've known that for a while, haven't you?_ It trailed a little lower, pressing into the skin to make the jagged beats reverberate in his palm. _I gotta keep lovin' her._ "You think… she'll let me?" Soul wasn't even sure that was his own voice, so strangled and afraid.

Spirit snorted a laugh, "Already afraid she does, kid."

Another flourish of color hit Soul's face as he tried to hide the shame behind his cup, hoping the bitter liquid would at least give him an excuse for the churning in his stomach. Instead, the saccharine sweetness rushed over his tongue. "Ugh, hot chocolate."

"Caffeine stunts your growth," Spirit snorted. "Can't have that - Maka likes 'em tall - like her papa."

More disgust washed over Soul's face, "Shut up, old man."

 _Good talk,_ Spirit chuckled.

* * *

As Maka ran into Marie's arms, bruised and bloodied from the fight, Soul met Spirit's eyes. It was just a second, no real contact, but it still brought a fresh bit of color to the boy's face and a smirk to Spirit's lips.


	2. Post Madness Party

Spirit had just barely derailed the moment years ago with his daughter and that mop-head on the balcony at Christmas Eve Commemoration, but now he was seeing the disaster on the horizon as they celebrated survival.

That little kretin had been named Death's Last Weapon and while he could be nothing but proud of her, Maka was making the mistake of basking in it, and the midget imp in general. He'd caught them more than once at the party in quiet conversation, Soul's lips just a little too close to Maka's ear, or Death-forbid one of those slimy hands hovering like Soul was going to have the nerve to touch her.

Spirit was getting the distinct feeling that Marie was aiding in this, forcing him into an intricate game of keep-away as the night progressed which Stein was joyfully partnering with her for. It took a few hours, and a few drinks, before Spirit finally found himself in the position to pounce - or, really, to sit drunken in his chair as the previously mentioned anathema came to refill his punch. "Hey!" Spirit crowed.

"Save it, old man," Soul muttered as he refilled his cup and then a second for Maka.

"I take back what I said!" Spirit tipped forward in his chair, the legs clattering as he almost fell headlong but he was too intent on Soul to notice the new disequilibrium.

With an eye roll that almost tossed them out of his head, Soul turned to the drunken fool and grimaced. "Take back what?"

"That you're allowed to love her!"

Soul rushed forward, practically spilling the cup down Spirit's front as he clapped a hand to the older man's mouth. "Keep your damn voice down!"

"No," Spirit battled with Soul's hand, forcing punch to splatter on his white shirt.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Soul groaned. "My damn shirt and you-"

"Take back my permission," Spirit snapped back. "You don't even have the _guts_ as it is, but I can't let a mop-haired, shark-toothed little-"

"The _guts_?" Soul spat. "You think I don't have the _guts_ to do it, you drunk fucking _oaf_?"

"Or the vocabulary," Spirit hiccuped. " _Oaf_ , who the hell uses _oaf_."

"You-!" Soul stabbed a menacing finger between the two of them. "You listen to me, old man, I-" he stuttered the yell to a stop, bringing his voice to a whisper as he leaned closer. "I _love_ her and I'm no spineless idiot like you so I'll do it _right_ \- your permission or _not_."

"Not!" Spirit clenched the T between his teeth.

Soul fist practically popped one of the paper cups, the crinkle bringing the liquid back to bursting. "Fine!" came his eloquent retort as he turned on his heels, bee-lining for the balcony.

Spirit watched him, cradling something between a grimace and a smile. _I hope he does it right._

* * *

"Soul?" Maka's eyebrows raised easily as she added up the change in her partner who'd only been out of her sight for ten minutes. What had been a pristinely white shirt was now splattered with pinkish-red splotches and his party-grade grimace was now replaced with his _I'm-about-to-explode-in-a-tantrum_ frown that was usually reserved for when she ate the last of his ice cream. He attempted to press the crinkled cup towards her and as Maka took it her eyes widened again. "Um…?"

"Listen," he barked.

"OK," Maka let a weak laugh flutter from her mouth since even though to the regular eye he looked entirely prickled, Maka could feel his soul warbling, nervous, but still reaching for her.

"You and me…" That stumbled off into an inaudible end, Maka leaning in to try to catch it. She was still trying to dip her ear towards him, to suss out the mumbles when his face suddenly turned the color of the stains on his shirt, his eyes coming wide like hers. "Maka…" He'd never said her name with so little breath behind it and it forced her cheeks to match his.

"What?" But suddenly, at that moment, Maka _knew_ what. Soul, always bad with his words unless he entirely said something by _accident_ , was mute but his soul was still buzzing, trying to lock so tightly with hers that it could squeeze out anything else, any bits of doubt or fear or indecision. At that moment, she let it. It was a click of a light-switch, a bright glow illuminating for both of them that brought even more vibrant color to their faces. "Oh," Maka warbled and while normally she knew the instinct was to run, to tear herself away from it, there was no denying she was cinched to him and the tangled line was humming with the sweetest message.

Soul had nothing on his tongue, not a trembling ounce of syllables that he could bring together and while jumping headfirst was never his way, he could feel the morse code coming back along the connection of their souls urging him forward. He'd never done this - technically thought about it, analyzed it mentally for hours on end and kept himself awake for more than one night with the mental perfection of the act - and all bets pointed to utter failure but he leaned nonetheless. With his mind racing - _how's my breath? Oh, fuck, when's the last time I used chapstick? How hard of a Maka-chop is this gonna earn me?_ \- Soul made a new seam for the two of them, his lips just pressing to hers.

Maka's eyes were wide but only for a second before disappearing behind comfortably closing lids. Soul let himself do the same, savoring the newness of it all.


	3. Valentine's Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been bitten by the Valentine's Day bug.

Spirit could easily recognize the thousand-yard stare, Soul's brain lost somewhere in a chasm of grey. While it was rarely ever welcomed, Spirit readied his fatherly mantle and sat next to the boy. "First Valentine's Day blues, huh?"

Soul's head made a slow pivot, whites starting to widen as his mouth dropped.

Spirit stared wordlessly as their eyes met and his gut started to turn.

"I… have a weapon's test today," Soul wheezed, "I didn't study, so I'm- I'm fucked but- but… it's Valentine's?"

"You… idiot!" Spirit hissed as he grabbed Soul by the shoulders, starting a spastic rocking that sent Soul's white mop to and fro. "Are you telling me you forgot to shower my precious girl with all the love in the entire world on one of the most romantic days of the year?"

"Cut it out," Soul's voice bobbed and weaved along with his head as he tried to break Spirit's hold on him. It was impossible, instead the scrambling of his brain continued as his words jiggled from his throat. "OK, OK, I forgot!"

"You completely moronic mophead!" Spirit spat. "I just barely _let_ you associate with my daughter and now you completely and utterly destroy that beautiful little heart because-"

"Enough!" Soul yelped as he put an end to the nausea inducing spinning by bucking on the next push back, sending him tumbling off the stairs and onto his ass in the dust. "She didn't- _she didn't even say anything though_ ," squealed up from his frantically thumping chest. "I mean, not even all week- all _month_."

"Because you're supposed to _know_ ," Spirit chided before sighing at the naivete. "She probably thinks you're _surprising_ her."

"I don't _do_ surprises!" Soul barked.

"Well, you're gonna this year," Spirit threw back as he wagged a finger in Soul's direction. "Listen, first, you're going to take my reservation and my flowers- they're at Belladonna's Blooms. Not roses, because that's cheesy but a soft variety of reds, pinks, and purples."

A grimace was twisting across Soul's face. "Reservation?"

"For dinner- _you're wearing a tie_ \- and dancing at Pierre's."

Soul barely resisted the urge to let his lips tremble at the idea. "Like in front of other people?"

"Yes, you're going to dance with my daughter whether you like it or not," Spirit shot back. "And a gift! You better be able to tell me _right now_ that you have something put away because you _definitely_ can't give her the lingerie I have on hand."

"As if that would be the first time," Soul grumbled under his breath.

Spirit chose to ignore the muttering to shout, "Well, do you have something?"

Sweat broke out on Soul's palms as his voice cracked and spiked, "I mean- I- well- sorta-"

"Sort of?" Spirit pushed back.

"OK," Soul barely breathed out. "I've been _kinda writing her a song, but_ ," the last part was an almost silent hiss as it was now his back that was starting to pin-prick with sweat. _I was really hoping to hold on to that until we were thirty- forty- eighty years old, you know, when I finally got up the fucking nerve._

"At least that's one thing you didn't fuck up," Spirit huffed out with an exhausted breath.

Soul's grimace was all the way down to his shoes. _There's still time for that._

* * *

Fingers trembling?

_Check._

Sweat in every joint?

_Check._

Voice definitely willing to crack at any and every moment?

_Check._

But Maka's hand was buzzing perfectly at Soul's elbow, delicate but still strong fingers sitting at the crux not feeling or at least ignoring the tackiness of his shirt thanks to the stress. When his hands touched the keys, he forgot the nausea that threatened to purge him of the fancy dinner they'd enjoyed or the way that even though he'd danced a million times he still managed to step on her toes more than once tonight.

How she didn't seem to notice- how she was still looking at him with that torturously soft gaze as her soul sang so sweetly right along with his music was a painful conundrum to him. On one hand, his fuck-ups were easily swept under the rug, free to get lost in what he knew Maka could assume was a romantic, well-planned evening. On the other, this was an entire fuck-up and the guilt of it was making his stomach loop even more than the moment that Maka rested her head on his shoulder.

"OK," broke the tune with another terrible fluctuation of his voice.

"OK?" Maka questioned as she lifted her head.

"I fucked up," he muttered.

"Um…" Maka put an inch between them on the bench.

The distance between them fed an instant panic in him, and Soul's fingers and soul reached for her, latching tightly where they could. "I forgot," he pressed out with a long, slow breath. "All of this, I _forgot_ and-" A horrible grimace twisted his face. "And your dad bailed me out. _He_ set all this up."

After a painfully long but completely dumbfounded moment, Maka rasped, " _What?_ "

"It was Spirit's reservation and _Spirit's_ flowers and, honestly, _Spirit's idea_." At this point it was nothing more than emotional vomit, purging thanks to the sickness of guilt. "I forgot. I really did. I- when the fuck have I ever even had to think about Valentine's Day? But I know I'm a fucking moron, and I know you should be mad at me, so I'm ready for it, but, please, Maka-"

Instead of a chop, her hand came softly to his cheek. "Did Papa write the song, too?"

"No," he murmured breathlessly.

"Soul…" she sighed sweetly. "I kind of guessed? I mean, you didn't mention anything before today, and then all day you've been… sweaty, panicked," Maka finished with a laugh that forced his head to hang. "But this, the song, how long have you been working on it?"

Soul desperately stared at his hands. _How do I tell you that it's since the moment we met? Since the moment I felt us really connect and I knew- fucking knew deep down that you were the only person I'd ever have or want to have?_ The words felt thick on his tongue but he forced them with every last bit of strength he had. "Since the moment I realized I love you."

Her fingers faltered but didn't leave, just an unsure tremble that danced along his cheek. "And that's been… a while?"

"Yeah," he replied hoarsely. "I just- it's not perfect, it's not _good_ enough and-"

"Soul," she cut him off with the sweet intonation of his name as she dangerously threw her arms around his neck. There wasn't space anymore, just her body squeezing against his, meshing souls and practically down to the cellular level with the way she pulled tightly. "It is, all of it is," she murmured against his cheek. "Because you don't lie, you're never anything other than what you are and that, that's what I _love_."

"Just me?" he murmured with the shakiest of breaths.

Maka pressed dedicated lips against his skin, her words tickling his ear. "Always just you."

* * *

The text came around midnight. _Thanks, Papa._

Spirit smiled. _So he didn't fuck it up after all._


End file.
